


Unrequited

by blueeyesbunny



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 16:01:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3140261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueeyesbunny/pseuds/blueeyesbunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas struggles to deal with his feelings for a Lavellan who loves somone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt on the kink meme. Enjoy!

It had all seemed ordained in the beginning. Solas had only joined the Seeker's budding cause in the hopes of monitoring Corypheus, but with the appearance of the Herald it had quickly become so much more than that. It had seemed so auspicious. She was one of the People, vibrant, lovely and so full of purpose. So full of power. She had lain there in that prison, heartbeat fluttering in his hands, and he had known from the beginning that she was a rare treasure. She had given him hope, a feeling he had long forgotten. 

Perhaps it was only natural that this hope, the admiration he bore her, would develop into something more... complex.

Laughter floated down to him from the upper levels of the library, soft and bright, like birdsong. Solas pretended to ignore it, but his hand, carefully poised over a piece of parchment, came to a stop. His pen remained suspended in air, ready to write words that would not come. The sound of her voice was arresting and, though he was loath to admit it to himself, it always drove him to distraction. 

“No, no. It's 'dareth shiral'. See?” His ears twitched up toward the sound, straining to hear each word clearly. Her voice had always had that effect, particularly when she spoke in Elvhen. Thoroughly distracted now, he still stubbornly continued to hold his pen aloft, though he made no move to continue writing. Instead, he thought longingly of those early days when she'd come to him often, asking for a story, a memory, anything. He'd thought her infatuated with him then. Fearful of the intimacy, the invasion of his privacy, he had subtly rebuffed her, putting up walls between them. Looking back, it was obvious that she'd just found comfort in his familiarity. He was the closest thing to one of her clansmen that she was likely to find amongst the Inquisition. But she was no wilting flower and had bounced back quickly from his isolation. She had flourished in the face of adversity, quickly making friends and seeking companionship elsewhere. After a time, when he saw her warmth for their companions growing, he realized his error. He had tried to reverse his course, to draw her back in. But even when their companionship resumed, it had quickly become obvious that her attentions towards him were not romantic in nature. Painfully obvious.

“Apologies, my lady. I... don't think I'm well suited for this.” The rough, masculine timbre of her new companion was bracing to his ears. His nose wrinkled. It was worse than drinking tea. Grating and bitter in equal measure. But, his attentions were rewarded with another gentle, melodic laugh.

“Oh, ma vhenan. Ma nuvenin.” Closing his eyes, he could imagine her sitting across from him, her delicate mouth curving upward, the words directed at him. As you wish. There were many things he wished from her. Many things that he would ask, given the chance. And she would listen attentively. She would lean across the table, her cheek resting against his, lips just barely grazing his ear, and she would whisper-

“Forgive my shortcomings, my lady. I will try harder. What is... ma nuvenin?” The illusion shattered, the fragile pieces of his imagination breaking apart and dissolving into nothing but a vague sense of longing. He fought his rising irritation. He told himself, not for the first time, that he was a fool. He was free to leave, to escape. To the garden. To that secret little library in the lower levels. To the mountains even. No one would know where he'd gone. He would be blessedly free from the constant torture he endured here. And besides, the voice reminded him, this is what he'd wanted, was it not? 

And yet, he remained where he was, pen hanging in the air like some cruel metaphor for his feelings, present but entirely ignored. 

“That sounded lovely. You are getting the hang of it!” Her voice changed then, dropping in both tone and volume. Solas could just imagine her expression, eyes dark and sparkling, lips parted ever so slightly as she leaned in conspiratorially. “Ma nuvenin means 'as you wish'.”

Her words, wasted on her current company, pricked something within him. He rallied around his wounded pride, reaching for anger to replace the pathetic sense of despair that was growing within him. Perhaps he had pushed her away, for her own good in fact, but he'd never imagined that she'd seek out a shemlen for company, much less one such a Rainier! A faithless and honorless man who'd actively lied to her for months! A man who knew nothing of her culture, nothing of her magic. Who merely accepted the Anchor rather than admiring her for carrying it. He knew nothing! His affection for her might have been genuine, he would have been dead otherwise, but it was so shallow that it was worthless. 

Even as he leaned in to the anger, he knew that it would be short lived. A small voice in the recesses of his mind was already reminding him that Rainier wasn't the only one to lie to their Inquisitor. His righteous fury was a tenuous shield at best, but it was one of his few remaining defenses. 

“Have we already been here an hour? Fenedhis! Come, we should go.” 

“Of course, my lady. Here, let me help you.” 

The sound of scraping chairs and opening doors told him of their movement, just as their footsteps warned him that they would walk through his alcove on their way out. But halfway down, the noise stopped. Straining to hear what they were doing, Solas could just make out Rainer's whisper. “Anything I wish?”

There was a muffled giggle. “You rake!” Then, a pause. Solas imagined her stretching to kiss his mouth, or perhaps his cheek. “Anything. But not here. Come!” Her voice was a breathy whisper. There was another soft giggle, and then silence. 

When footsteps finally resumed and they emerged into his alcove, they were composed, though her cheeks were a little flushed. He relished the sight, though not without regret for the cause. Her eyes swept the room and when they landed on him he was gratified to see her smile. His anger fled him and he was left with only that treacherous gift she'd given him at their first meeting: hope.

“Hahren! Aneth ara! How goes your studies?”

Without looking away from her, Solas gestured to his desk, filled with books, drawings and papers. “Busy as ever, da'len, though it is fascinating work. If ever you wish to speak of it, you are welcome here.” 

“Ma serannas. I would not want to trouble you over it.” 

“Halam'shivanas.” 

She ducked her head and smiled. “Perhaps I will stop by then, when I can find some free time. Our discussions of the arcane are always enlightening.” The delicate sweetness of her features never ceased to enthrall him, though her formality pained him. Her attentions, so rare these days, were intoxicating. “And I would also enjoy your advice. I've been teaching Blackwall a bit of elvhen, but I've done a poor job of it so far. Perhaps you could give me some tips.” 

“Nonsense, my lady. You seem perfectly able to me.” Rainier looked at her tenderly. His hand, large and rough, settled gently on her shoulder. She leaned into it. “Ah, no offense meant Solas. I fear that I'm a hopeless case, but her tutelage is not to blame.” 

“Of course.” Solas nodded stiffly. 

They made their good-byes and left, exiting into the main hall. He watched them go, saw the gentle hand on the small of her back, the tender glance they exchanged at the door. 

Bitterness his only companion, he was left with nothing but his thoughts, his alcove once again quiet. He sat unmoving for another minute before his pen returned to the page. To the outside world, he appeared studiously absorbed in his work. But somehow, his notes on the dispersal of magical energies turned into a sketch of a lovely pair of elven eyes. 

 

*dareth shiral- farewell  
*ma vhenan- my heart  
*ma nuvenin- as you wish  
*fenedhis- curse  
*hahren- honorific indicating wisdom and/or age, elder  
*da'len- honorific indicating youth, familiarity and/or affection  
*aneth ara- friendly greeting, indicates familiarity and trust  
*ma serannas- my thanks  
*halam'shivanas- (used here somewhat ironically) The sweet sacrifice of duty.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
